Interruptions
by Voyfan2
Summary: Kathryn had planned a quiet day, but when old friends show up ...


Paramount, or is it CBS, owns Voyager and its characters (except for the last fellow and the dog — they're mine). I make no money from this.

Kathryn frowned as the vid wailed. So much for painting.

She grabbed her coffee and padded into the den to answer. The Doctor was looking a bit anxious.

"Good morning," he said. "Your office said you were out. I trust you are well."

"I'm fine, Lewis, just taking a day off," she said, and his face visibly relaxed. "My sister was visiting, and Paul's in Tokyo. What's going on?"

"My season tickets for the Symphony arrived. Do you still want some of the tickets to the Pops Series?" he asked, pronouncing "Pops" with disdain.

Kathryn just laughed. "I do, and it's not as bad as all that. I still have gaps in my popular music knowledge, so a lot of it is new to me."

"I thought you were a classical fan."

She shrugged. "Paul is into jazz, so this is our compromise. But if Marina can't make it some night, let me know." She pulled up the calendar and muttered to herself as she perused the list. "No ... London. No ... Utopia Planetia. Yes, yes. Eh, Paul's gone, but Mom's here. Hmm … grandson's birthday … an early out?" She stopped at the last one and pursed her lips.

"You like Roggvekeks?" The Doctor asked incredulously.

"Oh, God no," she said. "I doubt that a symphony could save that noise. But my aide and her husband are big fans. So," she said, clicking it off, "I'll give them to her as thanks for those late nights last month. There you go," she said, "Credits are on the way."

"And so are your tickets. I appreciate this."

"As do I; we'd never use a full season. So how are you? We haven't talked lately."

"Oh, fine … busy as ever." He paused. "I assume you got the announcement about the new addition to Chakotay's family."

"I did. Another boy, I see."

"The fourth baby in three years," he huffed.

"Oh, yes, it was twins the last time … well, he's adorable, but better them than me.

"Do you ever see the Commander?"

"Just when we're both at headquarters, which isn't too often." She took a sip of coffee. "And how are you and Marina?"

He hesitated. "Uh, oh ...what's happened?"

"Nothing, really. She wants us to move in together."

"And you don't?"  
He sighed. "I do, but I don't think she understands that I run on a 24-hour clock. Now, I play opera at 3 a.m. or work on projects; that might not go over well."

"Well, you might consider our housing solution," she offered, wondering just how his neighbors coped with 3 a.m. opera.

He chuckled. "Not many couples buy adjoining apartments and cut a door between them"

Kathryn just laughed. "Well, they are small apartments." She leaned back in her chair. "It works. Paul's wonderful, but he's a major slob. He can leave clothes on the floor or work on his boat gear over there and I can ignore it. I can paint in the dining room or blast classical music over here and he doesn't care."

Lewis looked thoughtful. "Sounds interesting, though I can't say I see myself as an owner right now."

"Well, there's that. Perhaps you need a place with a section that shuts off … what did Tom call it? … ah, a 20th century man cave."

Afterwards, she heard Riley whine: time to go out. A quick lunch, and she noted that the light in the dining room was still holding. She'd just picked up a paint tube when the doorbell rang. "Damn," she muttered, but her annoyance evaporated when she saw Tom Paris at the door.

"Speak of the devil," she said as she gave him a hug. "I was just quoting you to Lewis!"

"Do I want to know?" he teased. "Actually, I brought this: an advance copy of my new holonovel," he said, handing her the data pod. "I'm anxious to hear what you think."

"Oh, thank you! Now this is the time-travel one, right?"

He nodded. "1963."

"Funny, you never write about the 1990s." He just shook his head. "Too personal, and still classified."

"And will be forever," she added as she poured him a mug of coffee. "How's everyone?"

"Good … B'Elanna has an assignment at Utopia. Two weeks there, two weeks here."

Something about his tone was off. "How long?"

"Three months. Oh, I almost forgot. Harry's back next month … we're talking about getting a group to go bowling."

Kathryn's eyebrow shot up. "Bowling?"  
"You have bowled, haven't you?"

"Not for years!" She shrugged. "Well, if I can, I'll go humiliate myself for Harry."

"That's the spirit!" he teased, then sobered. "By the way, did you get the message?"

"From Chakotay? That's funny, Lewis just asked the same thing, in the same solicitous tone."

"What tone is that?" he asked, realizing that he'd just stumbled into a minefield.

"Oh, the one that suggests that news of Chakotay would drive me to jump off the roof or explode in rage."

"Would it?"  
"No, and no."

"Good," he said, rubbing his face. "I guess we all tend to tiptoe around anything involving you two."

"There's no need. I can't say we're close now, but we aren't estranged," she pointed out. "I'm happy that he has a family; though four kids under what, age three, four? No, thank you."

Tom chuckled. "I agree. B'El says she would just kill him."

Kathryn guffawed at that as she propped her feet on the coffee table. "You all do seem to forget that Paul and I have been together for oh, six years now."

He looked at her searchingly. "What?" she asked.

"Just wondering how are things with you two."

"Fine, and why do you ask?"

He leaned back and put his feet on the table, too. "Don't get me wrong. I like Paul a lot, and I think you two are great together. But it seems like you've kept some degree of separation between you. All things considered, I'd assumed that you would have married by now. Or am I over-assuming?"

"Thomas, you're just plain scary sometimes," she said, marveling again at his ability to see through her. "Let's just say the idea of being wife No. 3 is still daunting. For both of us."

"Don't like the odds?"

She sighed. "Marriage brings expectations, and so does Starfleet. You and I saw what that did to our families. And I've spent six years watching Paul try to repair things with his daughter, especially now that grandkids are involved."

"It is tough," he allowed. "When B'El decided to keep her commission, we had a few talks, and fights, about not letting the job overwhelm our family."

"So how do you feel about this new assignment?"

He smiled thinly. "I understand what this means, but I'm not thrilled. It's also lousy timing. It's going to be frantic getting this novel ready for release. I'll have to be in New York for a few days."

"Can I help? Babysitting? A tanker truck of coffee?"

He chuckled. "Both, actually. Though I don't trust you to deliver a full tanker of coffee."

He ignored her glare and took a sip of his drink. "And getting back to the subject, I was going to say that you and Paul _are_ workaholics to the nth degree."

"True, and to answer your question, that's why I didn't like the odds." She contemplated her cup. "To be honest, I'm surprised we got this far. I figured we'd just fizzle out because we were always at opposite ends of the quadrant."

"But you haven't."

"No, we haven't," she said with a wry grin, "We keep coming back to each other."

She leaned back and wagged a finger at him. "Actually, Mr. Perceptive, what you should be sensing is that some of this is starting to chafe."

He raised an eyebrow. "What is?"

"The demands of the job … the travel, the time apart." She sighed. "It hit me this weekend; I missed him."

"You didn't before?"

"Yes and no. I mean, there was always work; we'd talk every night. If he was gone, I'd visit Mom, or have someone visit. I certainly wanted him around, but it's not like there was this great void if he wasn't. And besides, the 'welcome home' is always great. Remember that, by the way."

Tom chuckled and shook his head. "So, you're saying that you're feeling a void … "

"Let's leave the subject of voids to my therapist, thank you. But yes, I miss him. I miss hearing him rattle around, and making dinner together, and going out and the other thousand things that are part of our life."

" _Perhaps the walls are finally coming down,"_ Tom thought. Not that he ever blamed her. After the losses she'd absorbed, she, like B'Elanna, probably considered happiness to be something that could be snatched away at any moment. But perhaps that subject was best left to her therapist, too. In any case, Paul Bergen either had his own demons or he was a _very_ patient man.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

"Good question … no answer."

"Well, the direct approach is always best, I've found. But 'Direct Approach' is B'El's middle name."

She laughed and patted his leg. "Thank you, Tom. I didn't mean to rope you into a therapy session."

"Hey, I asked because I've been concerned. I did tell you that I'd always be here for you. That doesn't change." The alarm went off on his pocket vid … "Ah, time to pick up the kids."

They stood, and she put her hands on his shoulders. "And I told you the same. So if you need us to take the kids, or send in dinner, or whatever to help you finish this novel, just ask. I _will_ make myself available."

"Deal," he said, pulling her into a hug, then he tilted her face to his to share a quick kiss. An always-private exchange … always kept within bounds … an acknowledgment that while their affair began — and ended— early in Voyager's journey, the connection would always remain.

"You know," he said, "I think your last statement might answer the question." She gave him a puzzled frown, and he just smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Talk to you later."

"And I'll send you a book report," she said as he walked out the door.

It was much too quiet now, and the emptiness of the house made her shiver. She shook it off and went back to the dining room. Well, so much for painting today. She poured another cup of coffee and sat on the couch with her thoughts.

 _Actually, meeting Paul Bergen was a stroke of luck. She was about to duck out of that reception for the new Bajoran ambassador when he approached and introduced himself._

" _Two of our fellow admirals have dared me to ask you out for a drink." He kept a straight face, but she could see a twinkle in his gray eyes._

" _Oh? Were you really dared, or is this just an inventive pickup line, Admiral?"_

 _He burst out laughing. "My God, you are a straight shooter. All right, Admiral, there is no dare. But you look bored, and I'm about to suffocate. Hell, if you're up for it, we could try to sneak the ambassador out with us."_

" _Do you know him?"_

" _No, but the poor man looks like he could use a stiff drink."_

 _She could barely contain her laughter. "He certainly does. All right, Admiral, you win the dare. Is Hannigan's still around?"_

" _It is, indeed," he said, "After you, Admiral."_

Early evening, and she was back in the den, considering dinner, when she heard Riley's bark, followed by the sound of the front door opening. "Hi, Buddy," Paul's voice floated in from the living room. She found him standing in the kitchen, holding a small stasis container. He looked exhausted.

"Hi," he said. "I brought sushi from that place you like in Chiba."

"Well, bless you," she said affectionately. "I wasn't expecting you until midnight."

He chuckled as he put down the container. "Well, I do have two captains who are more than capable of wrapping things up." He gave her a soft smile. "And frankly, I missed you."

Kathryn's response was to throw her arms around him, and he finished with a searing kiss.

A couple of hours later, they were eating sushi in bed, trading highlights of their day.

"I see the painting's out," he said. "Get much done today?"

"Not a damn thing," she said, laughing. "Too many interruptions."


End file.
